Celebrity : Lloyd Banks

[Lloyd Banks]I just touched down, Ferrari to concreteI ain’t even home and they’re talking about mef-ck out my ear if you talking ’bout freedom n-ggerFree don’t pay the bills Im ballin’ all out, b!You rappers don’t know meNah I ain’t your homieIf your name aint Em, Ferrari or TonyI like my wheel chromeyMy Bentley my RollyMy Magnum my fortySouth Jamaica shawtythese losses I took in the gut yothe work’s still here, I’m just cooking it up slowClear my mind, you whippin’ the truck loadmy Pop dead, but he live through his son thoughif rap aint work, I’ll be pimpin’ on some hoeStill eating lobster and shrimp in the BungalowI’m back like crack over the drumrollYou know, wherever I go the gun go

[Akon - Chorus]We on the grind (hey) all the time (hey)ain’t bout to let a n-gga come and snatch mineI keep a nine, you see the shineI might just let your ass slide this timeWhile I get this paper, paperWhile I get this paper, paperCause I’m a celebrity(I don’t need none of y’all)Ghetto celebrity(Keep your punk-ass awards)I’m a celebrity(Take your fake smile off)Ghetto celebrityaint nothing changed n-gger

[Lloyd Banks - Verse 2]The media will test ya, popularity is pressurePorche Panameraplatinum hammer through the metalwreck the booth up, I’m too toughthat inner city grammerstep your jewels up, they bruised upI’ll sparkle for the cameraharsh reality’s what (?) holding them back from openingverbal attack all over these n-ggas, push the herd to the backI’m the kind that they pray on, spending half of their day onlay on, n-ggas for days, just shots spray onmy sound system knock and in pound Tupac6-4 jumping like the ground too hotthey spot me, they chase a n-gga down two blockstwo shots in the air for n-ggas that aint heretwo tone, two door, grey top, roof floorgreen guap galore, in and out of new hallthat bright light you saw, was a paparazzi flashI’m tryna snap a picture through your Maserati glass

[Eminem]…there are enough insults in my headto fill up a swear jarand have it overflowing so dont get me going, don’t dare startyou’ll never see me again, Amelia EarhartI’m poppin’ a wheelie off to a really unfair startI’m past grinding for me, guess I just be grounded uplike ground round or a pound of chucktightly wound as f-cktill the fire marshalls come shutFire marshall ground ‘em upI guess you should just shut the f-ck upand stop f-cking around and duckI aint playing this time, I told you I’m not down for bluntsto say I keep it 100 would probably sound redundantlike calling a bitch a hoe, or asking a gal to suckand blowing your d-ck cockis she up to scew and down to f-ckit’s a man’s World and I’m trapped in a land of smutwith a thousand sluts wrapped with muzzlesrunning through a house of mutsotherwords I’m shutting up everyone one of you bitches mouth’s upand I’m watching my language if I tell you to kiss my f-cking buttand aint sh-t changed, my sh-t still dont stink playermy farts may have become staler ever since I became a trailer park celebritymaybe my complexion became a little palerposter job for white trash, I’m a garbage pale kid sailoryeah, see me up all in your b-tch means I’ma rape her,all I got for these hoes is d-ck duck tape and a stapler so b-tch you better look for table scraps to scrape herI don’t subscribe to the news or the free press but homie I get the paper!